


The Not-So-Forbidden Fruit

by advictorem



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward Sexual Situations, F/F, Femslash, Homophobia, Swearing, Tattoos, Teacher-Student Relationship, background jasico, background pipazel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:40:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advictorem/pseuds/advictorem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bianca's world had always been limited. When someone shows her the wonders of all that she's been held back from, she doesn't really care that it's her professor. Thalianca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Not-So-Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> my friend said i should name this "thalia do the sess wit da people" but i'm not doing that, so.
> 
> this is mostly thalianca, but there's background pipazel and jasico.
> 
> there's mentions of sex but thalia and bianca don't have it, so i only rated it as mature.

Bianca couldn’t believe it when Annabeth talked her into taking an art class. It was utterly ridiculous. Her drawing was limited to stick figures and slightly unrealistic flowers.

Besides, the art teacher, Mr. D, was a major jerk. On her first day of freshmen year, he had bumped into her and gave her detention for not watching where she was going. He was a total drunk, too, and showed up to school every day hung-over.

She sighed quietly as she scanned the room. Everyone glanced at her as she walked through the door, and she knew no one but Annabeth, who quickly waved her over.

She smiled tensely, walking her way over. She sat down next to Annabeth, took out her notebook, and talked with her quietly as they waited for Mr. D to appear.

He was always late.

“Did you pick up the syllabus?” Annabeth asked her, adjusting her pony tail. “They’re on the desk.”

Bianca shook her head, moving to stand up. Her friend’s grip stopped her. Annabeth wordlessly handed her a syllabus, laughing when Bianca frowned and punched her shoulder.

“God, this class is making me anxious,” she admitted, shivering in her thin cardigan. “Why does he have the AC on? It’s below freezing outside.”

Annabeth clicked her pen and began to mark up her syllabus. When she was done underlining dates, she dug an assortment of highlighters from her backpack.

Bianca allowed her to work in peace, seeing that she was way too distracted with organizing to answer.

She stared at the board absentmindedly, before she switched her gaze to the clock, to Annabeth’s colorful paper, to the cliché academic posters on the wall, and back again.

It seemed like forever before the door to the classroom opened. Mr. D walked into the room, followed by…the principal? They all watched in disbelief as their teacher carried a box to the desk and began carelessly tossing his personal belongings into it.

He was…leaving? Bianca didn’t know whether to whoop and cry tears of joy yet. Was this for real? Mr. D had been there longer than everyone. It just seemed extremely strange. Maybe the staff finally become aware that he was constantly, totally, indiscreetly, drinking on the job?

After Mr. D left the room, the principal turned to face them. He propped himself on the edge of the desk, one leg dangling in the air and one planted firmly on the ground. No one dared to speak. His blue-gray eyes were always serious and intimidated everyone he had ever met. Bianca had even heard a rumor that he had been raised by wolves, and that he was really at Clarion Ladies Academy in order to lure them into the woods and back to his hungry pack.

She was skeptical, so she didn’t believe a single word of the rumor, but that didn’t mean he didn’t frighten the life out of her.

“Children,” he addressed sternly. “Your teacher, Mr. D, has unfortunately decided to leave his current occupation and become a circus clown, I presume. His replacement will arrive tomorrow, and you are to treat them with the utmost respect. Do I make myself clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, Principal Grace,” rang through the room, and he watched them for the rest of the period in silence, studying them all.

Bianca was starting to think that there was some truth to that rumor after all.

That night at dinner, she sat with her family, Nico, Hazel, her father and stepmother, and slowly picked through her plate.

“Eat your food and stop playing with it!” her grandmother ordered, rolling up a cloth napkin to smack her with. Bianca quickly dug in before she could. “That’s my girl.”

She had almost forgotten that her grandmother had come to visit—scratch that, she had _completely_ forgotten. It wasn’t like her grandmother was easy to ignore.

Bianca’s mind was just so preoccupied with thoughts of school—more importantly, of her new art class. Who was going to be their new teacher? Was she going to fail? She couldn’t draw. Didn’t you have to know how to draw in order to take an advanced art class? She would figure as much. Annabeth was a natural artist, of course. She drew buildings and landscapes more than anything else, but she was still very good at what she did.

She sulked. Bianca didn’t think she was creative in the least. She wouldn’t know art if Van Gogh slapped her across the face.

Now cooking was a whole other story. She could cook like no one else’s business. She had been tempted to take Home Ec, but she didn’t want to ditch Annabeth in a class full of people she never talked to before.

“Bianca’s taking art,” Persephone brought up. “ _Advanced_.”

Grandma Demeter perked up. “Art? What good is art?”

“It—it’s fun, Grandma,” Bianca lied, stuffing her mouth full of rigatoni to keep her from answering any more questions.

“As long as that’s all that it is, babydoll,” she replied coarsely. “Young ladies need to focus on helping around the house. All that learning—it’s no good for you, baby.”

Instead of explaining to her grandmother for the millionth time that women were valuable and respectable members of society, Bianca finished eating and excused herself, taking three steps at a time as she ascended to her bedroom.

No one bothered her for the rest of the night, thankfully, and she was left to silently cry, little tears pouring from her eyes. She hated her close-minded family. Their views of life and society were so—so— _distorted_ and _backwards_. She knew she would never, ever be accepted by them. She was attracted the women, something she had realized from a very young age. She hadn't said anything, ever, out of fear. Of course, her family didn’t know she was a lesbian, but she knew they would kick her out if they did.

She just wished there was someone out there that she could talk to. Someone who wasn’t close-minded. Someone who cared about _her_ interests and what _she_ wanted to do with her life.

She fell asleep after lying in the same uncomfortable spot for hours. She dreamed of moving away, becoming a famous chef, gambling in Vegas, doing things that her family would never, ever permit her to do.

* * *

The next morning was terrible. Her grandma woke her up two hours early, demanding they cook breakfast together.

“Now, you see, this is the trick to a good omelet—”

She zoned out after that.

Bianca got to her classes a little late after she dropped her brother Nico off. He was only eight, so she had to walk all the way to the elementary school before she caught a bus to get to her high school.

Hazel was waiting for her in English. They were a year apart, but Hazel had already obtained the English credits required for her grade level.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Hazel asked. “I would’ve walked with you to drop Nico off.”

“It’s okay,” Bianca assured, glancing around the room.

Katie Gardner. Drew Tanaka. Lou Ellen. Wasn’t bad company.

Oh, who was she kidding? Katie was silently judgmental, Drew could be an absolute nightmare, and Lou Ellen was a troublemaker.

And their teacher? Mr. Brunner was alright but his grading was super harsh. It was like he expected them to know their textbooks front and back. He was never relaxed or easy.

Bianca hated that they rarely had any female teachers. It was an all-girls school, after all. With all the girls drooling over Dr. Apollo’s looks, she would have thought that he would’ve been fired.

“Hey,” someone said to her immediate left. “I’m Piper McLean.”

She reminded Bianca of the stereotypical heartthrob in every teen romance movie, with her choppy brown hair and startlingly pretty eyes.

Bianca shook the offered hand. Her skin was so warm that Bianca wouldn’t doubt it if she were running a fever. “Bianca di Angelo.”

“I’m new,” Piper said. “Just started today.”

“You aren’t going to like it here,” Bianca warned, scribbling down their morning warm-up. “There are tons of male teachers that like to look down your shirt. And we’re all really convinced that Principal Grace is a cannibal.”

Piper grinned, and Bianca was struck by how seriously pretty it was. “I’m sure it won’t be so bad. To be honest, part of me actually wanted to attend school here.”

Bianca glanced up from her paper in shock. “Why?”

“I figured there would be a lot of pretty girls,” Piper replied easily. She lowered her voice to a whisper and winked. “Looks like I was right. Speaking of pretty girls though, who’s that girl next to you?”

Bianca blushed. Piper was a lesbian, like her!

She turned to face Hazel. “Hazel, meet Piper. She’s new here.” She expected Piper to be bashful at the introduction but she smiled smoothly and shook Hazel’s hand. “Hazel is my younger sister.”

Hazel was shy, of course, but she quietly cleared her throat. “I—It’s very nice to meet you, Piper.”

“You can call me beautiful if you’d rather,” Piper responded easily, laughing as Bianca covered her surprised laugh with a cough.

Hazel giggled quietly to herself but she appeared a human tomato. “You’re funny. You should eat lunch with us,” she said, smiling. “What lunch do you have?”

Piper handed her schedule to Bianca. “There’s my schedule. You two can just look over it if you want.”

Hazel peered over Bianca’s shoulder. “Oh! You have our lunch. And you share Art with Bianca!"

Piper smiled. "Great."

The bell rang for class, and the class collectively hushed. Mr. Brunner moved his wheelchair until he was facing the class. 

"Girls," he said, waving his arm out. "We have a new student."

Everyone registered Piper's disgruntled mumbling.

* * *

The art teacher wasn't late. It was odd, considering that everyone was accustomed to Mr. D showing up twenty minutes after the bell.

Bianca walked in and immediately stopped. It was a woman. A somewhat androgynous woman, but a woman nonetheless. She turned before the teacher, hunched over her desk and marking on a paper, could catch her staring. She took her seat next to Annabeth as quietly as she could.

The entire class waited in silence. No one dared to say a word. Bianca wondered why that was. 

When their teacher looked up, her question was answered.

Electric blue eyes scanned the room slowly. It reminded Bianca of their wolf of a principal. It was then that she glanced to the board to see her name—Ms. Grace. She refrained from gasping and falling into a coma. Was this his wife? No, she realized. For one, the board said  _Ms._ For another, she was  _way_ too young and hot to be married to Principal Grace. Daughter, then. She might've been his daughter. The resemblance was striking—the short, dark hair, the complexion, the height, the sharp features, and her eyes. The only major difference was, Bianca thought, that Ms. Grace didn't remind her of a wolf. She acted more like proud eagle, perched on her desk and studying the faces of every student in the room.

Finally, the silence was broken, and Bianca quietly released the breath that she had been holding.

"Right, so I'm your teacher now," Ms. Grace spoke with a sort of casual authority. Bianca wasn't sure how that was possible—how someone could sound so relaxed but firm at the same time. "Don't worry, I'm nothing like your last instructor. I'm fully qualified. I studied music and liberal arts at Julliard, much to my mother's dismay, and I graduated from Yale. If you have any questions concerning my background, I'll accept them now before I continue."

Annabeth raised her hand. Bianca blushed, feeling Ms. Grace's eyes briefly trail over her before they landed on her friend. "Ms. Grace, are you really related to the principal?"

Ms. Grace flicked her tongue over her lip before pulling it softly between her teeth. Bianca was enamored, watching the motion with curious eyes as she awaited her response. Their teacher glanced to the seating chart, her eyes just barely flicking over to it. It was almost unnoticeable, but Bianca was staring intently enough to catch it.

"You are Annabeth?" she replied. 

Annabeth nodded, smiling uneasily.

"Yes, he is my father," she answered eventually. "Any more questions?"

A girl with red hair raised her hand high.

"Yes, Ms...?"

"Dare," she filled in. "Rachel Elizabeth Dare."

"Well,  _Rachel Elizabeth Dare_ , what's your question?"

"Have you ever taught before?"

Ms. Grace didn't hesitate to answer this time. "No. My family wasn't satisfied with my previous job, and I wasn't really putting my talent to good use, so I decided to teach art."

Rachel called her again before she could answer another student. "What did you do before? Like comics and stuff? Because that's really cool if you did."

"I...uh, was a tattoo artist," Ms. Grace decided.

Bianca felt her chest swell with something unfamiliar. Tattoos? Did that mean she had tattoos? She glanced to the cuff of her button-up and saw the barest glimpse of dark ink. So she did, Bianca thought. Her family would kill her if she got a tattoo. They would kill her if she got a piercing.

"Yes, um... _Drew_?"

Drew fixed her bangs in a split second, flashing her prettiest smile. "I was just wondering what we're supposed to do with the syllabuses Mr. D left for us."

"Trash them," she said. "I'll make new ones. Maybe. Probably not. Just bring a pencil, pen, and paper for this class."

Drew nodded, eyeing the teacher like she was the newest product of Revlon.

"No more questions?" Ms. Grace asked, eyebrow arched. "Alright then. I'm not going to make you introduce yourselves to the class."

There was a collective release of breath. They were all relieved by that. A small smile twitched at the corners of Ms. Grace's mouth.

"But I am going to ask you to draw."

A few began to groan in disappointment, but Ms. Grace silenced them with a single look.

"I apologize," she spoke, and Bianca couldn't honestly tell if she was being sarcastic or not. "Is this not an advanced art course?"

Definitely sarcasm, she decided.

"You're going to have to draw eventually," she continued, her gaze daring them to defy her. "I need to see how talented you are. So draw. No reproductive organs, please. I've seen my fair share of those."

Bianca nearly choked on her breath as the rest of the class laughed nervously at the display of humor.

"There's paper on my desk for those without it." Ms. Grace glanced at her watch. "You have thirty minutes. Begin."

Bianca stared at the paper for the longest time, not knowing what to draw. She would normally just doodle a stick figure or an egg or even a basketball, but this was Ms. Grace. The teacher she had just met and didn't want to disappoint. She wanted Ms. Grace to think of her as her star student. How was she supposed to accomplish that if she didn't even know how to draw?

Oh, God, she was one of those teachers that walked around the room to check your progress. _Hurry!_ She urged herself. _Draw something!_

Bianca glanced over to Annabeth's paper. She was easily sketching the outline of the Empire State Building. Ugh. Pressured and feeling the teacher a couple breaths behind her, Bianca scribbled whatever she could onto the page.

"Whoa, whoa," a whisper poured into her ears. A larger hand closed over hers and Bianca felt goosebumps rise on her skin as Ms. Grace began to gently maneuver her hand. "You have to take it slowly, Bianca. Let me show you."

Bianca felt judgmental eyes on her as Ms. Grace patiently guided her through the motions, instructing her to press down only lightly, to shade here and there, to fill in the details.

"There," she said when they were done. "Tomorrow, I'll expect you to draw your own bunny."

"Yes, ma'am," Bianca recited breathlessly, turning her eyes to the cute animal that she had created out of meaningless circles and squiggles.

Ms. Grace didn't release her hand yet, and Bianca became aware of that all too soon. She was completely red from head-to-toe and Annabeth noticed. Piper noticed, but Bianca hadn't even seen her sitting right next to her. So did Ms. Grace, she was sure.

It was only after she had removed her hand that Bianca realized that she hadn't introduced herself. Ms. Grace had already known her name, without even looking at the seating chart.

* * *

Art wasn't so bad, Bianca decided. Not when she was free to look at Ms. Grace all day. She still needed her help sometimes. Compared to everyone else in the class, Bianca's art looked like something her eight-year-old brother would draw.

She stood up late the second night, trying her best to recreate the drawing of the bunny, wanting to be ready to prove her skill to Ms. Grace the next day. But she couldn't remember how she had done it. All she could remember was the feel of their hands together, moving the pencil smoothly across the paper. The feel of her teacher's minty cool breath on the back of her neck. The pine fresh scent of her as she towered over Bianca, even when she was bent down a little.

She brought in a very, very rough sketch and reluctantly presented it to Ms. Grace. Her extremely attractive teacher had stared at it for the longest time, a cute little smile on her face that gave Bianca shivers, before she passed it back wordlessly. Bianca knew the drawing was absolutely horrible. She would kill to know what her teacher was thinking. She didn't think she was making fun of her. The smile had been fond,  _approving,_   _accepting—_ she didn't see much of that.

Weeks passed before Ms. Grace interacted with her. It was a Tuesday, which was the day that they reviewed bits of art history. Ms. Grace was far from enthusiastic, explaining some of the characteristics of surrealism, flipping through a poorly-organized presentation that she assured them didn't belong to her.

Whenever class ended, Bianca started to leave before she noticed that her teacher was sitting sullenly in her desk, fingers pressed tightly, painfully to her temples. She quietly approached the desk, thinking of something to say, some way to ask what was wrong. She didn't have to. Ms. Grace glanced up instinctively, not at all looking surprised.

"Bianca," she said, organizing her desk a bit before resting her arms on it. She leaned forward, smiling as best as she could. "What is it? Please, sit down. I'll write you a note for your next class, don't stress it. Just tell me what you're thinking."

Bianca took a deep breath, suddenly feeling way out of her element. "Are you...okay?"

"I'm fine," Ms. Grace said, slightly defensive. She took a glance around, making sure the classroom door was shut. "My babysitter canceled on me."

Babysitter? She had a kid? Bianca had a little crush on her super cute teacher who  _had a kid_? She wondered who the lucky dad was. She knew the gay vibes she was getting from her teacher were created by her own imagination.

"Oh," she said. "When do you need someone to watch them?"

"I have a meeting on Saturday," she answered. "But I'll have to stay home with him now."

"I can do it," Bianca asserted suddenly. "I'm not busy Saturday. I can watch your kid if you want."

Ms. Grace perked up. "You would?"

Bianca nodded eagerly, smiling really, really wide. "I love kids."

"Oh, thank you so much," she praised. "My brother's ten, but he's a real sweetheart. He cleans and he always listens. You won't have a problem with him."

"Brother?"

Ms. Grace's eyes looked glazed for a moment. "I have custody of him."

"Oh," Bianca said, trying not to sigh in relief. "My brother's eight, so it won't be a problem."

"You have a brother?" Ms. Grace asked, perking up again. It was something Bianca realized that she enjoyed—she liked making her teacher happy. "You should bring him. Jason loves having friends over. You two can eat dinner with us if you want."

Bianca was beyond jittery and excited. She knew she shouldn't be—it wasn't an actual date or anything, and Ms. Grace probably, most certainly, definitely didn't think of her in the same way. But she couldn't help her excitement. For once, someone besides her siblings and Annabeth wanted something to do with her. She nodded, anxiously agreeing to it. She left the classroom with a smile on her face and a cell number.

* * *

Saturday came by too slowly but when it was finally there, the butterflies finally caught up to Bianca. She paced her room nervously, stressing over what she should wear.

Hazel stepped into the room, furrowing her brows in confusion. "What is it, Bianca? Why are you freaking out? Why are there clothes all over the place?" Realization dawned on her. "You have a date!"

"Shh!" Bianca closed her hand over her mouth, watching as her sister's eyes widened comically. "Keep it down, would you? It's  _not_ a date."

"I am so telling Mom," Hazel declared as she pulled away.

Bianca barely stopped her from sprinting into the living room. "You tell them, and I'll tell them about your new friend."

Hazel gulped. "What are you talking about?"

"That pretty girl Piper," she said. "The one that's been skirting around you for weeks, waiting to make a move on you."

Hazel's cheeks were subtly tinted. "Piper and I aren't like that."

"Is that why you eat lunch together every day?" Bianca almost laughed at her embarrassment. "Don't worry. I would never tell them. I don't want them to start trying to teach you that what you feel is wrong. But you can't tell either."

"Least I don't have a crush on my sexy art teacher."

Bianca turned around, blushing, searching for clothes to distract herself from the butterflies that started up again.

"I don't know where you're going, or who you're going to be with," Hazel started, her hand clasping her sister's shoulder and stopping her. "But I think that if you don't go with that cute sundress, I'm going to have to kill you."

Bianca smiled, and turned to hug her sister, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. "Thank you," she murmured sincerely. "You'll cover for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hazel said with a roll of her eyes. "But, Nico happened to mention that you had to take him somewhere. Want me to take him instead?"

Bianca bit her lip, slowly shaking her head. "He's coming with me. I—I'm watching Ms. Grace's younger brother for her."

Hazel frowned. "Why does Nico have to go?"

"Jason likes friends," Bianca explained. "Ms. Grace suggested it."

"I—I'm not sure. Are you positive you can trust this lady? She won't kidnap you or some shit?"

"Hazel!"

"Sorry," her sister apologized, obviously not meaning it. "I forgot that you were a little bit of a prude."

"I can trust her," Bianca assured. "She's—I can tell she isn't a bad person. Her babysitter bailed on her, and I offered to help. She didn't lure me in or anything."

Hazel nodded, smiling a little bit. "Well, have fun on your  _date_."

Bianca held Nico's hand as the ascended the steps. It was a large house, extremely large. It was probably big enough to house eleven people comfortably. She wondered why an ex-tattoo artist had such a big house. Then again, she  _was_ the daughter of Principal Grace. That man wore a new snazzy, expensive pinstripe suit to work every day. Maybe her family had a great amount of money; that would make a lot of sense, Bianca thought. Ms. Grace carried herself like royalty, and the way she spoke—the words she chose to use—were sophisticated and structured, like the habit had been beaten into her.

She knocked on the door timidly, then silently berated herself. There was no way anyone in the house would have heard that. She knocked louder, more firmly. 

A woman opened the door, and Bianca could hardly believe Ms. Grace was standing in front of her in a sleeveless shirt. Both of her arms had tattoos, full sleeves—she traced the swirling snakes, soaring arrows, and colorful symbols with her eyes. They were all well drawn.

"Artemis," Ms. Grace said suddenly, and it made Bianca jump. Her teacher laughed. "Sorry. I—uh, meant to say that Artemis tatted me. We owned a parlor together."

"Oh," Bianca said, feeling embarrassed around her for the eightieth time.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, waving her in. "Come inside."

Bianca obliged, and her jaw nearly dropped at all the marble. The major colors of the place were white, gold, and black, like Ms. Grace was some kind of distant relative of the Queen's.

"It's too much," her teacher commented. "Father insisted."

Bianca nodded.

"Jason!" Ms. Grace called. Bianca heard quick footsteps on the staircase.

A blond-haired boy took the steps two at a time, hurriedly rushing into the front room. "Yeah, sis?"

"This is your babysitter for tonight," Ms. Grace introduced. "Her name is Bianca. She brought her little brother over so you have someone to play with. You be good, okay, bud?"

Jason nodded, smiling over at Nico. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Jason! Want to play video games with me?"

Nico grinned, showing his gapped teeth. "Yeah!" He nodded eagerly, following Jason back up the stairs.

Ms. Grace laughed, scratching the nape of her neck in a way that made her look even younger. "They won't be upstairs all day, I promise. Let me show you to my bedroom." She saw Bianca's blush and subtly smirked, like she didn't want to be caught doing it.

Her room surprised Bianca. It wasn't as large as many of the other rooms she had glimpsed, and it was darker. There were black curtains, and a bed dressed in red and black silk.

"It looks like something out of a cheap porn flick, I know," Ms. Grace commented, and it took Bianca a moment to realize that her teacher was actually talking about _porn_ , of all things. "I just like dark colors, and small spaces."

Bianca looked up at her, struck by the height difference. "Why's that?"

"Bigger spaces make me feel small," she remarked although she looked uneasy about admitting it. "I need to take up a room."

"Must not be hard," Bianca said unthinkingly. "I—I mean you're really big."

Ms. Grace grinned. "And you're really small."

Bianca blushed, looked away, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Why are you wearing that hat?" her teacher asked. "Not that there's anything wrong with it. I was just...curious."

_You aren't the only one._

Bianca self-consciously fiddled with her green cap, readjusting it on her head.

"I just feel comfortable with it," she responded. "Like you in big rooms."

"Right," Ms. Grace said. "Well, I should probably leave now. You can just hang out in here until I get back. There's plenty of movies. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and keep the doors locked."

Bianca nodded quickly. "Okay, Ms. Grace."

Her teacher's nose crinkled. "Uh. It's Thalia when we're out of school, okay?"

 _Thalia_. She hadn't expected her name to be so pretty and so unique, but she figured it was fitting.

"Go on," she encouraged. "Try it out."

"Thalia," Bianca breathed, feeling all kinds of weird about it. She grinned almost maniacally. "I'll be here when you get back, Thalia."

Once she left, Bianca glanced around, unsure. She wanted to do as _Thalia—_ god, she liked the sound of that—asked her to, but she didn't feel comfortable just hanging around in her crush's empty bed. After a good thirty minutes of debating with herself, she decided to turn on the television. There was a movie already playing, and so she decided to watch that. Maybe sitting on the edge of Thalia's bed wouldn't be awkward.

Half-way through the film, she was underneath the covers, her head resting on fluffy pillows. She had the blankets up to her neck, and she resisted the urge to look away from the screen. As she watched the killer hack into the ditsy cheerleader, she finally allowed herself to roll her eyes. It was so boring and cliche. Whoever directed it obviously didn't fully grasp the concept of horror. She almost didn't hear the strong knock on the door.

She flipped the television off, calling out, "Come in!"

Jason edged the door open. "Are you busy, Miss Bianca?"

"Just Bianca." She saw him blush and smiled. "But, no. I'm not busy. What do you need?"

"Lia still isn't here and she doesn't let me cook." He looked almost embarrassed about it. "Can you make us something to eat?"

A chance to show off her cooking talents?

"Sure," she told him, following him downstairs and into the kitchen.

She checked the cabinets and fridge for ingredients. She found that she didn't have much to work with. Bianca frowned, standing up on her toes to try and reach for the cabinet. When she found she couldn't reach it, she scowled and started to pull her bottom onto the counter. Before she could open the closest cabinet, a larger hand slowly pulled it open.

Bianca bashfully met Thalia's gaze and didn't break the eye contact as she reached into the cabinet. 

Thalia smirked. "And just what do you plan to do with the..." She squinted at the bottle. "Dish soap?"

Bianca shook her head, trying not to blush for the millionth time. God, she got embarrassed easily.

"Jason wanted me to cook up something," she replied. "I was just looking for ingredients. You don't have much in the way of fixings around here."

"I wouldn't start with dish soap," Thalia said, amused, as she gently took it from Bianca and placed it back in the cabinet.

Bianca suddenly became aware of their position as her teacher was forced to reach upwards, unintentionally pressing herself closer to her. Thalia was between her open legs, in a suggestive way that was totally cliche and shouldn't have given Bianca the pleasant shivers that it did.

She was struck by how different her teacher was outside of school. She wasn't stern, though she did occasionally scold Jason about running through the house. She was fun, even playful. She was so much younger than Bianca had thought.

Thalia explained that she was twenty-three. She had been a practical prodigy, living in the wealthy mansion of her father's and receiving an education that others could only dream about. Jason had lived with their mother, she told Bianca. He lived with her until she died, two years ago. Jason had been living with Thalia ever since.

They talked as they made dinner together. Thalia obviously didn't know what she was doing, but she pretended to know for Bianca's sake.

"How was your meeting?" Bianca asked suddenly, remembering why Thalia had left the house.

Thalia shrugged. "I'll be honest with you now. It wasn't a meeting. It was a date."

Bianca masked her hurt easily. She's had years of practice. "Oh. That's nice."

"Not really," Thalia disagreed, her eyebrows furrowed as she chopped up some peppers. "For all intents and purposes, she was a major let-down."

"How so?"

_Time to take some notes, Bianca._

"It's—well, it's nothing. It's just she—she kind of ridiculed my career."

"As a teacher?" Bianca couldn't believe it. Who in their right mind would underestimate the importance of teachers?

Thalia shook her head, laughing. "No. As a tattoo artist."

"Oh." Bianca turned the stove down as the water began to boil. "Wait. You still do that?"

"You bet," Thalia declared, like it should've been obvious. "My father can try to change me, but I'm always going to enjoy doing what I like. I run a parlor out of my house."

Bianca felt that strange rush again. "So, like, you tattoo people  _here_?"

"Why? You looking to get something done?" Thalia coyly glanced down at Bianca. "Kidding. The last time I tattooed a minor, I almost got shut down."

"I wouldn't tell anyone."

Thalia stopped chopping. She didn't set the knife down. "I would love to, but it's not exactly legal."

"I'm almost eighteen!" Bianca argued. "Really. I'll stop hiding it come my eighteenth birthday, and you won't get in trouble."

Thalia resumed chopping, not saying anything.

Bianca groaned in displeasure, seasoning the vegetables. 

"We'll see."

Thalia's response shocked her, but she didn't let it show.

* * *

After that night, Bianca became Ms. Grace's—no, Thalia's—new babysitter. She and Jason got along very well, and Nico really liked spending time with him. Their arrangement worked out perfectly. It was just a little difficult to control herself at school. She wanted to hug Thalia before every class, like she did when she arrived at her house. She almost got too personal—almost slipped up and called her by her first name.

Annabeth knew exactly what was going on—she always did. 

"You like Ms. Grace," she accused at lunch. She was casually eating a salad.

"Yes," Bianca admitted, knowing her friend could see through a lie. "And she's lesbian, or at least she's interested in women, so—"

"You can't go for it."

"Age doesn't matter, Annabeth," she argued. She had thought about this a lot. "Think about it. She's twenty-three now, I'm seventeen. When she's twenty-seven, I'll be twenty-one, and it won't seem like such a big deal."

"It's still illegal."

"What's illegal?" Piper asked, sitting across from Bianca. 

Annabeth swallowed. "Bianca is in love with the art teacher."

Piper whistled lowly. "Ms. Grace? Yeah, I can see that."

"I'm not in love with her," Bianca hissed.

"Yeah, yeah," Piper said dissmisvely. "Look, I have a sort of six sense about these sort of things, and love is coming off you in waves, my friend."

Bianca sulked but didn't say anything. She bitterly stabbed her burger with a plastic spork.

"But I don't think there's anything wrong with it."

They both looked up at Piper.

She explained. "You can't help who you fall in love with, Bianca. Sometimes it just crashes into you. There's no harm in you pursuing something with Ms. Grace. I think you should go for it."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Annabeth asked, incredulous. "Ms. Grace could get fired. Bianca could get expelled."

"Better than regretting never going for it," Piper argued. She met Bianca's eyes. "If you don't at least try, you're going to think back on this years from now and wish you had."

* * *

Everything was going great until Nico slipped up to their family, in the middle of dinner.

"I have a new best friend!" he said happily, shoving his mouth full of bread.

"Chew your food before you speak," Persephone lectured. "What's this boy's name?"

"Jason," Nico stated after swallowing.

Bianca visibly tensed, and Hazel noticed it with sympathy. She grabbed her hand beneath the table and squeezed it reassuringly.

"We kissed," Nico admitted with a giggle.

It took approximately four seconds for their father to jump out of his seat, pull Nico out of his seat, and beat him. Nico cried out after each swat, and Bianca knew he didn't fully understand why he was being punished. No one had ever told him what was right and what was wrong; no one had warned him that people think that homosexuality is wrong.

"I'm not going to have a fag in my house!" their father yelled, finally throwing Nico back into his seat.

"Too late," Bianca commented before she could stop herself.

"What the hell are you saying, young lady?" he snapped and turned on her.

She braced herself, working up the nerve. This was it. She couldn't back down now. She felt rage overpower her fear. Seeing her father beating her little brother over something that he couldn't help, witnessing his abrasive nonacceptance, she snapped.

"I'm a lesbian," she declared with the confidence she didn't know she had.

Hazel had tears in her eyes but tried not to look at their dad.

"Bullshit!" he screamed. "Get your ass out of that seat!"

Bianca didn't. He tried to pull her up, but she shoved him away with every ounce of strength she had. 

"You can't punish me for being who I am!"

Her father was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring in anger. He grabbed a glass and dramatically threw it across the room, causing it to shatter into little pieces. "Then get out of my house!" he yelled at her. "Get out and don't you dare think of coming back!"

Hazel tried to stop her. Nico was sobbing with his head on the table. Bianca didn't want to leave them with their horrible father, but she didn't really have a choice right now. So, she contained her tears, and marched out the door. She broke into a run and half-way through, and sobs finally broke her. She collapsed on the ground, hugging her knees to her and trying desperately to stop her tears. She tried to convince herself that he didn't matter. Her father was just a bastard and his opinion, his disapproval, shouldn't matter to her at all.

But it did. And God, it hurt.

* * *

Bianca woke up in a park swing. Her back hurt. Her head hurt. Her eyes hurt. Her heart hurt. 

But she knew she had to go to school. Regardless of how she felt, she wasn't about to fail her senior year because of drama at home.

She walked all the way to school, wearing the clothes from the night before. She hadn't worn them to school, but they had been the clothes she wore over to Thalia's place—the same skirt and top. She knew she would get in trouble for not being in her uniform, but she had left it back at home. So what if she got a tiny infraction for it?

No one wrote her up, because the first teacher to spot her out of her uniform was Thalia. She ushered her into her empty classroom before Bianca could protest. Thalia sat on the top of her desk, and folded her hands across her lap. She stared at Bianca for the longest time, thoughtfully scanning her dirty clothing.

When she started stripping her jacket and dress shirt off, Bianca's eyes widened. Was she expecting to have sex? What was she doing? God, she was so red. Why was she always so red?

More and more of Thalia's dark skin came into view until she was only in a tank top. She slid off her desk and slowly, carefully, made her way over to Bianca. Bianca was shaking; she could feel it and hear her teeth beginning to clatter. Thalia understandingly set the white dress shirt on the top of her desk.

"It will pass as your uniform shirt. Put it on, Bianca."

Oh.  _Oh_. 

She took her shirt off, feeling Thalia's eyes on her form. Bianca suddenly felt self-conscious about everything—the freckles scattered across her stomach, her protruding ribs, her small breasts. She hurriedly put the dress shirt on, finding that it was much too big for her. Thalia slid to her knees and began to adjust Bianca's sleeves, rolling them up, her face mere inches from Bianca's belly-button. She still hadn't buttoned the shirt.

"You're beautiful," Thalia commented suddenly, glancing up. Bianca almost passed out. Her teacher cleared her throat. "I just mean that you don't have to be so scared. You're shaking."

"I can't help it," Bianca replied, her voice coming out slightly choked. "Th—thank you, Thalia."

"You're welcome," she said, not-so-smoothly brushing Bianca's stomach with her hand as her fingers fiddled for the buttons. She slowly buttoned her shirt up, her eyes glinting appreciatively at the sight of Bianca in her large shirt. "You look good in it."

Bianca made a pitiful sound in the back of her throat. 

After she was finished, Thalia stood in front of her, dusting off the knees of her pants. 

"Now, you have thirty minutes before my first period class starts," Thalia said, using what Bianca had coined her 'business voice'. "Why are you in the clothes from the night before, why are they so dirty, and why are your eyes so puffy?"

Thalia pulled everything out of her—everything from her attraction to women, to her homophobic father, to Nico kissing Jason, to her lack of a home. It ended up with Bianca in tears and Thalia's strong arms wrapped around her, her hands rubbing her back as she spilled everything, Bianca's head tucked under her chin.

"If you need a place to stay," Thalia started, slowly, almost as if she were reluctant to offer. "My place could always use more people."

Bianca shook her head. Her teacher didn't sound like she wanted her to be there. She pulled away from the embrace, wiping at her eyes.

"Please," Thalia said suddenly, way too quickly, as her hands dropped to her sides. She looked like an awkward teenager as she tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her dress pants. "I would really like to give you a place to stay."

Bianca released a shocked breath. "Okay."

Thalia grinned, taking her by the shoulder. She pulled her close again and raised a hand to gently wipe at Bianca's tear-stained cheeks. Bianca unthinkingly leaned into the touch, smiling cheekily, unable to help it that she felt ten times better with Thalia's hands on her skin.

"If you wait for me after class, I'll give you a ride to mine," she said. "But we have to pick Jason up from school, too."

"That's fine," Bianca confirmed.

She was going home with  _Thalia_.

"Your parents kicked you out?" Piper asked in surprise as they sat at lunch. "Oh my goodness. Are you okay?"

Hazel was no where in sight. Bianca honestly tried not to worry.

Annabeth was silent but her mouth was tense and her gray eyes were worried.

Bianca cleared her throat and nodded. "Last night was...rough. But I'll be okay now."

Piper clapped her hands together. "You can stay with me!"

Bianca smiled, glad that she had such a great friend. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary."

"You know you already have a home with me," Annabeth pointed out.

Bianca started to open her mouth but Piper pointedly cleared her throat and she looked behind her. In order to fully see the tall figure, she had to look up until her neck hurt. Her art teacher smiled down at her.

"Anyone sitting next to you?"

Bianca gulped, shaking her head. She made some room and Thalia sat down next to her.

"Hope you don't mind my company," she said conversationally, making eye-contact with each one of them. "The teacher's lounge is boring. And, Bianca—uh, Miss di Angelo, rather, I need to speak with you urgently."

Piper lifted her milk and took a long sip, staring coquettishly over the top of it. She waggled her eyebrows, teasing Bianca, causing her to blush and nearly face-plant onto her tray.

"Do we...need to be in private?"

Piper snickered and Annabeth suspiciously raised her eyebrows, looking from Thalia to Bianca.

"No," Thalia answered her, not missing the snicker or the glances. "Do you have a fear of motorcycles?"

Bianca, confused, shook her head. "I've never ridden one, but no, I'm not afraid."

Thalia's lips twitched but she didn't smile. "Okay, that's what I wanted to know." She smiled at Piper and Annabeth. "Did you two do your homework?"

Annabeth grinned at the sudden attention. "Naturally, Ms. Grace!"

Piper laughed. "Speak for yourself, nerd."

It felt so weird for Thalia to be sitting beside her at lunch, talking with her friends, like they were some kind of casual high school couple. It felt weird, but right, like this was how it was supposed to be. This just wasn't fair. Why did Thalia have to be six years older than her? Why did her first love have to be so unattainable?

"Well, I'll leave you women alone."

Women. She called them women, and she winked at Bianca when she said it. Lord.

The rest of the lunch was filled with Annabeth's quiet acceptance and Piper's flirty taunts.

* * *

Bianca was shivering by the time she got to art class. Thalia's shirt—she had practically huffed it all day—was a bit loose on her. But she was also shivering out of nervousness. Thalia discreetly smiled at her when she entered class, and Bianca took her seat, biting her bottom lip enough to cut it open.

"We're doing portraits today," Thalia announced, genuinely excited about it. "You can draw anyone you want to—whether they're in this class room or not."

Drew raised her hand. "Can we draw a celebrity?"

Thalia nodded, and Bianca recognized that look in her eyes—she was being a major jerk inside her head, probably biting back a sarcastic comment. "You have the rest of the class period to finish your basic outline. You may work with a group, if you prefer."

Piper leaned over to look at Bianca's paper. She giggled. "What is that?"

"It's going to be Ms. Grace," Bianca commented, holding back her own laughter. This drawing was going to be absolutely horrible. She wouldn't turn this version in, no way.

As she worked, Annabeth and Piper fell into silence. She was working for most of the class period before she glanced up, annoyed at their long silence.

"What?" she asked defensively.

Even Annabeth, as composed as she usually was, couldn't stifle her laughs. "It's a stick figure with spikey hair and tattoos, Bianca."

"And freckles," Bianca said, like that should've made her art seem better.

"Ms. Grace?" Piper's voice rang out. Bianca tried to silence her, but only got Annabeth's hand over her mouth for her effort. "Bianca would like your opinion on something!"

If Thalia wasn't so nimble, Bianca was sure that she would've tripped given how quickly she rushed over to her desk.

Thalia stared at Bianca's paper for a long minute, her lips twitching wildly. Bianca really loved that—how hard it was for her to fight off a smile around her. Every time she made Thalia smile, she felt an enormous amount of giddiness that she simply couldn't help.

"Now, Bianca—"

"You know my art sucks," Bianca defended quickly. "Portraits are way too difficult."

Thalia leaned down and spoke lowly. "We'll work on it tonight."

Bianca squeaked, feeling Thalia's hand just barely rub her shoulder for a split second before she was gone, walking back to the front of the room.

"Alright, class, show me what you've got."

* * *

Bianca wasn't afraid of much. There was a small list—maybe ten things. And Thalia's driving? It was definitely up there in the top three.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around Thalia's waist, and it managed to soothe her a little bit, but she was going unbelievably fast and Bianca could feel every turn of direction. It was terrifying...but also sort of exhilarating.

They ended up not picking up Jason. Thalia said that even with Bianca as small as she was, they wouldn't have enough room for him on the bike. Thalia had called his elementary school and had them give him a bus note. He would be home thirty minutes after them, she explained.

"Let's work on that art of yours," Thalia said once they sat on the couch together.

She had an old sketchbook in her hands. As she flipped through it to get to an empty page, Bianca caught a glimpse of her other drawings—portraits, abstract designs that she couldn't even begin to understand, and animals. Bianca, not for the first time, was struck by her talent.

"So, when you're drawing someone's face, I don't even care if you make it cartoony. Just as long as it's a picture of a person's face—"

Sitting mere inches beside her, Bianca was captivated. She watched her still form, strangely immobile and comfortable that way, like a tree. Her eyes were deep and bright and glittering. Her lips were strung up by a perfect cupid's bow, and her scowl was—wait, scowl?

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Kiss me," Bianca muttered unthinkingly.

She hadn't even realized she'd said it aloud. Her teacher wasn't hesitant. She flung her sketchbook on the coffee table, and Bianca barely saw a rough sketch of her own face before Thalia's lips were closing over hers. She couldn't think—not with the way Thalia was gripping her hips, not with the way her body was stunned, somehow moving on its own accord, her fingers threading through Thalia's short hair.

Holy crap, Thalia had been drawing _her_?

She didn't know what this all meant. Did Thalia want to be with her? Had she been lusting after Bianca from day one? Is that why she knew her name without even glancing at the seating chart? Was she interested in her? Bianca's mind reasoned _no_ , but Thalia's tongue fought for _yes_.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Thalia murmured after pulling away. "You're so beautiful, Bianca."

"I think I do have some idea," Bianca disagreed, pulling her back in.

Her heart was going to explode it was thumping so wildly.

"Relax," Thalia told her, pulling until Bianca was on her lap. "I won't do anything you don't tell me to. I'll stop right now if it's what you want."

Before Bianca could respond, the sound of the front door slamming shut jolted them. 

Thalia pressed her eyes closed, a smirk on her face, and her brother walked into the main room and spotted them, his eyes wide.

"Is Nico here?"

Out of all the things to ask, that's what he went with?

The smirk faded from Thalia's face. She gestured for him to sit down. Bianca tried to move from her lap, not wanting it to be awkward, but Thalia kept a firm arm around her waist.

"It might be a while before Nico can come back to see you," she explained.

"What?" he asked, heartbroken. "Why? Is he in trouble?"

"Remember how Mom felt about me, Jase?" He nodded, frowning at the memory. "Bianca's father is like that, and Nico told them about—"

"Oh, no!" he cried out. He ran up to his room before they could stop him.

"I have to talk to him," Thalia said, her eyes following him up the stairs.

"I know," Bianca said with a tense smile. "I'm so sorry, about all of this. I already feel bad about inconveniencing you—"

Thalia shushed her. "I'll be back," she said, pressing a short kiss to her lips. "Don't think we're finished."

Bianca sat on the couch, reaching out for the discarded sketchbook. She glanced at the drawing of herself. It was totally unrealistic, she thought. She looked—well, she looked _beautiful_. Gorgeous, even. Her skin looked about ten times smoother, not a pimple in sight. Her hair looked silkier, prettier.

She didn't notice when Thalia walked back in the room or sat down next to her. She jumped when she heard her voice.

"He'll be okay," she said. "He just needs some time alone right now. We'll take him to an amusement park tomorrow or something. He loves heights. Don't know what he sees in them."

Bianca cleared her throat. "Good. Um, I was just looking at your art."

"You found that I drew you," she stated simply. "Is that creepy?"

"No," Bianca assured with a shake of her head. "But is that really how you see me?"

Thalia frowned, taking the sketchbook from her. Her eyes shifted from the drawing to Bianca several times. "I tried to be as accurate as possible. Did I mess up somewhere?"

"I'm pretty," Bianca blurted.

"Yes, you are," Thalia assured, confused. 

"No," she said. "I meant in the drawing—you made me pretty."

Thalia smiled in disbelief. "Bianca..."

"You think I'm pretty?"

The disbelieving smile got larger. "Well, yeah."

"I like you."

"I like you, too."

"Like me, like me?" Bianca clarified, just to be sure.

Thalia chuckled, nodding her head slowly. "Like you, like you."

Bianca timidly placed her hands behind Thalia's head. "Good," she breathed. "Right? This isn't wrong?"

"Well, it doesn't feel wrong," Thalia answered, obviously caught off-guard. "Bianca—I mean, I don't want to pursue this if it isn't what you want. You're seventeen. I'm your teacher, and going on twenty-four. I would understand if you change your mind."

"I don't plan on it," Bianca assured quietly. "I—I want something with you."

Thalia grinned, her cheeks displaying a barely noticeable red tint. "You're not getting that tattoo."

"Yes I am," Bianca argued playfully. She still felt butterflies like crazy, but she was comfortable. More than comfortable. "I was actually thinking of getting a bunny."

Thalia insisted that Bianca sleep in her room that night. With Thalia's scent on the pillows and the comforting warmth of her sheets, Bianca couldn't find it in herself to argue. She didn't know what the next day would bring—when she would see her brother and sister again, if she was ever going to be okay in her father's eyes, if what she and Thalia had was  _real_ or even  _right_. But she knew how she felt about Thalia in that moment, wrapped up in her arms, face pressed against her breasts, and, for the first time, Bianca felt optimistic about what the future would bring.


End file.
